Young and Audacious
by Lord of Judgement
Summary: When they were audacious and young, everything seemed possible. Gaius x Wingull. Pre-game, mild spoilers. Warnings inside. AU.
1. Part I

**Summary: **When they were audacious and young, everything seemed possible. Pre-game. AU.

**Pairings:** Gaius x Wingull

**Warning**: yaoi, weird F/M relationship, psychological, dark themes, etc. You got the picture. Borderline R rating, but I still consider it to be M.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Tales of Xillia_ world, story or characters.

**Author's Note: **Again, this is based on the spoilers I watched, have **not** played the game yet. So I labeled it somewhat AU (like the alternative world version ;). This is how I would have done it, now I just have to find out how Namco did their story. :D

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_Xiangqi_ - Chinese chess.

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**+ YOUNG AND AUDACIOUS +**

**Part I**

Wingull had first seen Gaius when he was thirteen. Himself an orphan and a subject of experimentation with the forbidden Origin technology, he without his consent was given to Gaius's father by the ruler of his tribe to repay a huge debt. Hajime looked at him, shook his head and entrusted him with serving his son in whichever way possible – the only task he was fit for.

It was early winter – and winters in A'Jule were severe – therefore the large fireplace in the room was lit and fanciful shadows quivered on the walls, in his youthful imagination appearing as sinister creatures from legends and fables. In the middle of the room, his hand resting on the back of the sturdy wooden chair, dressed in a simple white shirt which loosely hung on his shoulders, stood Gaius. He was lissome and slender but strong in constitution; tall but not tall enough to stand above adult men. In violet eyes on the suntanned face, framed in raven-black hair, danced the crimson glow of flames. He was smiling, but that smile sent shivers down Wingull's spine and his legs wobbled. He was glad that under the pretext of rendering homage to his lord he could lower his eyes and drop on one knee.

Such was his first impression of the future king.

"Your Highness, your venerable father sent me to you." In his thirteen years he was well educated in manners and eloquent of speech, for since the age of five he was prepared to be sent away to serve in the court of a foreign tribe.

"Did he? How kind it was of him…" Gaius said under his breath and fixed his eyes on him again. "How can you be of use to me?"

He was thirteen and scared, but nevertheless retained his dignity. "Do not be deceived by my youth, Your Highness, I am a skilled fighter."

Ornate boots rustled softly on the wooden floor as the young king approached.

"What makes you a skilled fighter? You are lean, bony even, you have slender arms and you come from a tribe whose warriors had long ago chose to become merchants and abandon the honorable craft of sword fighting. You do not strike me as a dauntless spirit. You are a child and children have no place in my court."

When they met, Gaius was only seventeen.

"Then challenge me, Your Highness," he replied, keeping his countenance although the king's words deeply wounded his pride and inside he was seething with anger. '_I am not some plaything to be exchanged for another at will_,' he thought maliciously. _'I am here to serve you loyally so why can't you appreciate my willingness? And I am not a child. I have seen things which will surprise even you.'_

"It is clear to me that you are not from these parts," mockery cut through his ears as if with a dull knife. "To receive the right to challenge an heir to the Outway clan is an honor, a reward you have to earn by merits, sweat and blood… Look at me!"

Despite the order, Wingull kept his gaze riveted on an unobtrusive spot on the floor, fearing that the moment he faced Gaius, his determination would betray him – tears would well up in his eyes much to the king's amusement, his lips would tremble and voice break.

"I will send you away if you do not look at me immediately."

Wingull jerked up his head, feeling pain grow in his temples. To his surprise, expecting an angry frown, he found Gaius's expression to be somewhat cheerful. "I do not need a servant who is deathly afraid of me," he explained. "I require respect, but fear… no, fear is a different matter altogether and if you cannot fight it, you do not belong by my side. Why would you even be afraid of me? I did not threaten to take your life or the lives of those dear to you. Are you afraid of what may happen?"

He couldn't fight the pain any longer. He was too angry. He imagined the king's astonishment – the thought admittedly gave him deep satisfaction – as the obedient boy in front of him changed in a blink of an eye. Screaming, Wingull clutched his head and called forth the mysterious power he received after countless unsuccessful experiments. The world for a heartbeat appeared discolored and then colors, images, sounds rushed into his mind in an overwhelming torrent. He couldn't control it fully yet, but he had no choice if he wanted to show the haughty king that he would not be humiliated.

Eyes blazing, a wry grin distorting his lips, Wingull grabbed a wooden sword from the rack and lunged forward as fast as he could. He deemed the king's son to be a skilled swordsman, but spoilt, unduly exalted and therefore innocuous, however, he was bitterly mistaken. He did not remember the fight, only scraps of it – disjointed movements, thrusts, desperate attempts to parry a swift, precise attack – but the awakening was imprinted into his memory: he lay on his back, gasping for breath, and a tip of a wooden sword pricked his throat. Glass shards cut painfully into his skin, his wrist had swollen and his forehead was dripping sweat. The young heir, however, retained his equanimity, having triumphed over Wingulll effortlessly – his hair scattered on his back in disorder and his blouse slipped off his shoulder, but otherwise Gaius appeared unscathed.

"You are good, I see it now," he said, "but you did not deserve the fight. Before we cross our swords again, you must practice – learn, think, make mistakes. I will forgive you, however, on one condition: you will abandon a bold dream to surpass me."

Hurried steps were heard and muffled voices rang without, "Is something the matter, Your Highness? We heard the noise…"

"No, return to your duties at once." The future king lowered the wooden sword and ordered him to rise. "Why do you obstinately refuse to utter a word?"

He struggled to his feet, clutching a few tresses of white hair in his fist. "I understand, Your Highness."

"Then you're free to go."

How did Gaius defeat him? The question had no answer.

…The day after their hapless meeting he was invited to Gaius's room for a conversation. The young heir wore a casual crimson outfit and sat on a low couch in a relaxed pose. He seemed more human in daylight than in sinister sheens of fire, more akin to a vigorous youth with violet eyes than a supreme invincible being, but Wingull didn't feel any liking towards him. He hadn't forgotten the humiliation he suffered or the arrogance with which the king's son regarded him. As foolish as the thought was, Wingull was determined to compel Gaius to treat him with respect.

But for now he easily played a role of a meek servant, bowing low to the future king and looking around. In daylight he was able to scrutinize the room in details. He didn't notice anything noteworthy, however, except for a large bed under a luxurious canopy and a couch on which Gaius sat with his legs tucked up beneath him. The predominant colors were crimson and saffron yellow, but one detail burst upon the eye at once: with the pattern on the canopy and cushions, amidst the dragons and other beasts of prey, was interwoven a white-and-yellow flower with thin petals.

"Don't stand there as if you had swallowed a lance," with a gesture, as swift as the likes of it, Gaius invited him to take a seat. "Tell me how you were accommodated. Do you need anything? As my personal servant you are entitled to a few privileges."

Wingull tore himself away from scrutinizing the surroundings and seated himself upon the low stool he was offered. Gaius must be bored, he thought, but aloud thanked the young heir for his concern and added:

"Everywhere I look, I notice the same flower, Your Highness. Do you mind me asking what it is?"

"No, I don't. It is a courtesy of my mother – have you met her yet? – but I enjoy what it reminds me of. Have you ever heard of a legend about a flower which grows only in the Spirit Land? They call it Maxwell's hand or the hand of god, since its shape resembles that of a hand if you hold something in it. A rare citron plant blooms with flowers which have five petals… hence its other name, Maxwell's hand."

"What is a Maxwell?" He inquired tentatively.

"Maxwell is the god of all Spirits… Wait, you didn't know? That's impermissible. Who taught you? No matter… I will see to it that you join our lessons with master Zhao, my father's advisor, and learn everything we do. If you want to be my servant, you have to know how to read, write, fight and at least be educated in the subject of mathematics and arcane summoning."

"But I know how to read and write…" he tried to object, feeling his cheeks burn. "And my skills with the sword…"

"That isn't enough," Gaius drew forward, compressing his lips. "But for now all you have to do is obey me thoughtlessly. If I say you need to learn mathematics, you will learn mathematics or I will ask my father for a new servant."

Wingull awkwardly nodded, clenching his teeth. No, he wouldn't drown himself in self-pity, regardless of how much he wanted to complain to a caring soul about his unfair treatment. Nobody will listen. But one lesson was embedded in his memory forever – Gaius respected strength of character therefore to be recognized, Wingull would have to become stronger.

"Is it hard to learn so much?"

"It is, but you will manage. And then, when you are ready, we will spar again, but you won't win."

"Why?"

"I won't let you." Violet eyes brightly gleamed.

"Why will you fight me, Your Highness, if you don't expect me to win?"

"You have to last against me more than a few minutes."

Wingull looked at his damaged wrist which was no longer swollen after a castle healer treated him and poignantly blushed, feeling once again as if shame scorched his very soul. He had nothing but pride and his pride was being trampled upon freely by a king who didn't even have a spark of decency. He was on the verge of telling the young heir to relieve him of duty to be his servant, but restrained himself and even forced himself to look at Gaius's face _(…black hair falls across his forehead like raven's wings… ravens augur death_).

"As you wish, Your Highness."

"It's settled then."

Gaius gracefully drew himself to full height and approached the window. Snowflakes lazily twirled outside – Wingull saw white dots against the background of a despondent gray wall.

"Have you been in the city? If you want, I can ask one of my personal guards to escort you around El Fe and show you the most memorable places. Some say it is the market, others – our castle and there are those who whisper about the forbidden pleasures, but I take no interest in those and you…" he laughed, "you are too young."

Wingull did not understand what forbidden pleasures the young heir was talking about.

"I've been to the market square yesterday, before I met you. Your father ordered to buy me clothes."

"Of course, there is the magnificent city of Khan Bark, which is almost always shrouded in snow, but I should not speak of it yet. One day…" Gaius continued and Wingull could have sworn his face had a dreamlike expression when he spoke of the mysterious jewel of A'Jule. "Have you ever been to those parts? No? What about your family? Do you have any?"

"I am an orphan, Your Highness." He replied tersely. The king was a master of his fate, but even he wasn't allowed to pry into the darkest corners of Wingull's soul where the youth was free – to hate, to cherish, to dream of anything his heart desired.

Gaius didn't inquire further.

"Come with me," he said. "Our lessons start soon and I want to introduce you to master Zhao."

***o***

Not even half a year had passed before Wingull understood that he had a rival. Leito – the white-haired, blue-eyed creature of convincingly deceptive innocence – was Zhao's son and as if his higher status alone wasn't enough to outshine Wingull, the youth displayed boldness beyond his years and always had a witty remark to add to a conversation. As opposed to him, Wingull was of prudent and quiet disposition which many often attributed, by error, to shyness. Their appearances, too, bore little resemblance. Leito was as tall as Gaius and wiry while Wingull, due to his almost unnatural paleness and delicate figure, appeared sickly.

They disliked each other from the first glance. Wingull immediately recognized someone who could easily overshadow all his efforts to earn his rightful place by Gaius's side and Leito grew increasingly jealous of him although he couldn't think of a single reason anyone should envy his position.

Once during a strategy lesson – strategy was one of the few subjects Wingull excelled at – he got himself into an argument with Leito. A middle-aged maid in the kitchen took a strange liking for him, bringing him sweets when she could and by a habit she did so that day although he had a lesson with his lord. Wingull loved fruit cake therefore instead of throwing it away, he took it with him, but Leito – that blue-eyed devil! – noticed. After he lost a game of xiangqi to Gaius (he lost about six out of ten games to the young heir), he returned to his place and discovered that Zhao's son had stolen the cake from him.

The argument which ensued was held in raised voices and inevitably it attracted attention of lord Gaius.

"Your Highness, Leito took what belonged to me without permission," Wingull explained himself. "I asked him to return it politely, yet he refused."

"No, I didn't! It is my cake and he wants to steal it from me!" Retorted Leito. "Where did he get the whole cake? He couldn't afford to buy it, I know that!"

"What will you say, Wingull?"

Wingull did not want to betray a kind maid who helped him and obstinately lowered his gaze.

"I told you, Your Highness!" Triumphantly exclaimed Leito. "He is a thief."

If they were alone, he would hit Zhao's son until his lips bled for the sacrilegious words, but then he could but helplessly stare at his hands, wishing for the moment of humiliation to end and his hatred to dissipate. He didn't want to hate, but it ate into his soul like rust or poison.

"Whether he is a thief or not, I cannot say," astutely remarked Gaius, "therefore I will offer to divide the cake in half so that you can share it together."

Wingull expected severe punishment therefore he looked stricken into stone when the king spoke.

"I am glad you didn't believe a lie, Your Highness," was all he could whisper in astonishment.

"I am not going to share anything of mine with a thief!"

"Then Wingull will have the whole cake," declared Gaius.

"But… w-why…"

"He is willing to settle the argument peacefully while your greed hampers your judgment and impels you to disobey my orders."

"B-but…. he stole…"

"If he stole – which I doubt he did – he will face punishment for his acts later."

Leito's pale face, trembling lips and eyes flashing fire was a reward for which Wingull would have given all sweets money could buy. His first humiliation as well as his first triumph he owed to king Gaius.

Three days later Leito waylaid him in the empty hallway, like a ruffian, and beat him severely although he did not fight back. As Zhao's son hit him, he kept yelling that Wingull was a disgrace to the court and a coward - an insult he earned by refusing to resist him. Wingull's pale face resembled a bloody mask by the time Leito was done, but he didn't utter a single word and didn't make a single attempt to defend himself, giving his rival no satisfaction or acknowledgement. He wasn't intimidated by Leito, but he respected his lord's wish.

He knew he had won when Gaius, upon noticing his injuries, asked him why he didn't resist.

"You settled our argument, my lord," he replied, wincing from pain. "By continuing the fight, I would have displayed disrespect and disloyalty towards you. Those few droplets of blood were spilled in defense of your honor…"

The king's son often seemed dissatisfied, but when Wingull concluded his explanation, a smile lit up his face. Gaius was genuinely amused.

"I see… Then I will reward you accordingly."

When Leito learned of the king's response, he promised Wingull that one day he would take everything from him. Wingull shrugged those childish words off. Zhao's son couldn't take anything valuable from him because he owed nothing. Even clothes he wore belonged to his lord. Leito could take everything and still leave empty-handed.

At the age of fourteen he didn't think that one day he would find something of value in his life.

***o***

When Wingull turned sixteen, he understood that Gaius was not who he appeared to be. Heretofore he obeyed the orders thoughtlessly and never pondered on the consequences, but as he grew older, he began to notice that the king's son often implied much more than he said aloud.

By that time, he had learned about the history of A'Jule and Rashugal, their sworn enemy. Rashugal was a prosperous Empire with hundreds of years of conquests and inventions documented on paper, where Spirits could be summoned freely for its very existence depended on _magic_, whereas his country couldn't boast of a single significant discovery. Until about two hundred years ago only scattered tribes lived on its territory with no leaders to unite them. They survived by growing crops on the rocky soil which they ploughed with the help of wild beasts. Then strong rulers appeared, attempting to establish small kingdoms, each gathering armies to protect vague borders, however, not many talked of unity. Their nation had not yet become aware of itself, often said Gaius, waving his hand with irritation. People by nature needed to belong with their kindred and had a propensity towards order as they developed, however, without a strong leader such an initiative was unlikely to arise. At the age of sixteen, many ideas churned in Wingull's head and he agreed with the king that something soon needed to change.

As time passed, he had proven his loyalty to Gaius and the young king began to speak his mind freely in his presence. He castigated his father's politics, blaming him for missing countless opportunities to expand the borders of their kingdom, for failing to strengthen their armies or establish a unified system of taxation on the territories occupied by their tribe, and Wingull, being a grateful listener, tried to support his lord. But despite his efforts, a deep frown appeared on Gaius's forehead more and more often, with and without a reason, as though a persistent thought was gnawing at him day and night. Wingull no longer bore bitter resentment towards the king and tried to encourage Gaius to talk, but it seemed he was not yet worthy of his lord's trust and respect.

Gaius did not shun hard work. From time to time he appeared on the field with his mother and helped the commoners, earning a suntan which did not disappear from his skin even during long winter. Wingull in turn gained complete control over his ability to shift during battle, earned the right to carry his own sword and often accompanied his lord on his adventures around El Fe, remembering each suspicious alley he saw, each tavern and store. Gaius did not enjoy entertainment, but one day, having caught Wingull unawares, suggested that it was time to show him how adults amused their leisure. Her name was Yuko and sympathy sparked between them at once, growing as the time passed. Wingull did not know what awaited him as he stepped over the threshold of a scarcely alight room, filled with aromas of unfamiliar fragrances, but he certainly did not expect to see _her_. She could have been his sister for all he knew, willowy – almost fragile – and pale. Her long black hair reached her waist and she let it flow around her like ethereal shroud as she danced for him. With bated breath, Wingull watched her, but when she began to slowly unclothe herself, he looked away. At his age, he knew little about simple pleasures in which many men and women around him partook daily. Certainly, he had strange dreams which became thoughts when he woke up, but he wouldn't speak about them to anyone not to embarrass himself. He didn't feel ashamed in Yuko's presence. On their first night they talked; she was surprised by his unselfishness and lack of demands, he availed himself on the opportunity to learn about himself and what he wanted in life. Yuko could not have been much older than his lord, but fate had not been kind to her. She was an orphan, like him, raised to please men, therefore in her dark eyes hid a different kind of profound sadness, the kind he had not yet seen. He showed her she was not alone in this world and Yuko repaid him in kind. Wingull learned that he did not desire women as other men did and at first the thought was confusing, then it frightened him. Yuko laughed at his fears and promised to show him something if he came to visit her again. He did and not only because he was consumed by curiosity.

On the following night, she dragged him towards a small unobtrusive building across the street and told something to the burly guard whereupon they were allowed to enter. There he was taken to a room in the left wing and a man came to him, wearing funny clothes which were adorned with tawdry jewelry and motley feathers. In semi-darkness he resembled Leito – white hair, blue eyes and a deceptively cheerful smile – and the semblance further unhinged Wingull who felt even less attracted to this unfamiliar man than to Yuko. He ran away like a coward and promised himself that he would never return to that place. His sworn sister (_…indeed, she was like a sister he never had_) apologized profusely, but he did not blame her in the least, finding the fault within himself and concluding that he could not be attracted to anyone.

One day about a year later everything changed.

He was with Yuko the whole night, telling her about his progress in the subject he called the _magic of numbers _(or mathematics, as Gaius called it), and slept through half a day because he could afford to. The young heir was spending time with his father, lord Hajime, who was known among the menials as a stubborn and demanding man but who lacked will and intelligence to control Gaius, which became more and more apparent as his health declined.

Having rested for a few hours, Wingull wandered around the castle, seeking the young heir, when by chance he heard loud voices behind the doors which led to a small garden. Intrigued, he approached. Lord Hajime and lord Gaius had a heated argument, too distracted to notice how he slipped through the chink in the leaves and concealed himself behind a jut in the wall which served as a rest for a huge vase. Spring flowers had already shed their blossoms and summer was approaching fast, bringing on its wings a herald to the short, like a dream, season of delirious heat – rain. The air smelled of rain and clouds cast a shadow over the bright disk of midday sun.

"…You must change your mind, father," Gaius was speaking. "If you do not wish to allow me to be present during the meeting with your advisors tomorrow, then find strength in yourself to declare war to clan Shin. How much more humiliation will you bear? They have attacked the caravan of peaceful merchants, having slaughtered everyone but one guard who survived to tell us of their actions by miracle. What will they decide to do next? Barge into our castle and lay waste to everything we built for the last quarter of a century?"

"I will not allow for a brutal retaliation. We are not prepared…"

"Whose fault is it that we aren't? I have spoken about the inevitable war for two years and you dismissed my claims thoughtlessly, as if I had not proven enough…"

"You are young and blood boils in your veins, obscuring reason with a desire for aimless slaughter."

"No, not aimless, father," Gaius continued with unusual passion. "People have become restless because the foundations of our society had been shaken. They are tired of chaos and uncertainty, tired of rebuilding their homes only to have them burnt again, tired of being robbed of the fruit of their hard work. And then there is a shadow of a threat from Rashugal looming over them… They wait for a strong hand to guide them with eagerness only a short-sighted man cannot feel. It permeates the air around us, the inexorable, insatiable will which will turn into a destructive torrent if not curbed and intelligently directed, like water, into a riverbed of revolution."

Silence hung heavy in the air and it frightened Wingull more than any hard words they spoke. It augured ill, that enervating silence, and soon enough, growing cold with terror, he heard the sound of a dull blow. Then an invisible woman shrieked.

"Stop it, Hajime, leave him alone!" She fell onto her knees into dust and imploringly stretched her arms towards the king who nevertheless continued to deliver the blows, saying again and again:

"Who do you believe yourself to be, insolent boy?! Speak no more of this nonsense. Do you hear me? No more…"

"Stop it! I beg you, stop it at once!"

Finally she diverted the king's attention towards herself and he struck her down mercilessly.

"And you, foolish woman, begone! Get out of my sight, both of you!"

Gaius's mother remained sprawled on the ground, wailing, and the young heir rushed past the hideout where Wingull shrunk, clasping his hands to his chest. For a moment he saw blood in the corner of Gaius's mouth and violet eyes, the fire in them, raging as if in a cage (_…no, only a fool would try to tame the dangerous element_). Wingull hurried after his lord like a dog who sensed that its master was agitated and angry, but could not console him. He wasn't even certain Gaius needed a consolation, an outlet rather. Having locked the door to his room, he gave free rein to his ire and for the longest ten minutes of his life, Wingull stood, listening to the sounds of shattering glass and breaking furniture.

The fire raged and faded harmlessly.

When Gaius opened the door, he was deathly pale but calm – unnaturally so – after a tumult of indignation. His crimson tunic was torn and dirty, blood dripped from his refined nose, his lips were tightly compressed, but Wingull already recognized a determined frown on his forehead.

"What has gotten into you, my lord?!" He exclaimed with feigned astonishment.

"It doesn't concern you," coldly replied Gaius. "Do you carry a sword? Very well. You will escort me to the bath house and help me wash this filth away."

There was nothing for him to do but follow his lord through the narrow corridors into the dimming daylight, into the streets seething with people, spattered with first heavy droplets of rain, and abandoned to the mercy of sharp wind. Thunder was rumbling in the distance, the sky was frowning, showing its ill temper, and lightning flitted across the boundless vast. Gaius walked hurriedly, but even his hurry was confident, as though measured, and Wingull had to elbow his way through the crowd to keep abreast of his lord. When he was momentarily lost, he found the fluttering raven-black hair and followed the taller youth as he would the light from a beacon.

Nearly everyone in El Fe knew Gaius and therefore they were accommodated without delay. Wingull stood by the entrance, trying to get his thoughts into shape, while the future king discarded his clothes and relaxed in steaming water. Then he found a bast mat and settled on it, cross-legged. From time to time he heard water splashing and discerned the contours of Gaius's figure in the fog, but for about an hour silence reigned in the room. Heat lulled him to sleep and Wingull dropped his head onto his chest, knowing he had to fight fatigue, but helplessly finding himself enjoying the surreal dreamlike state. He roused himself only when he fancied he heard his name.

"Wingull, are you sleeping?"

"No, Your Highness," he leapt to his feet, stifling a yawn.

"Bring me a wisp of bast," rang another muffled request from the direction of the bath.

He dragged his feet towards the marble edge and there he should have looked away, but, seized by sudden curiosity, did something quite foolish. He stood, rooted to the spot, and stared. Then, having stumbled over something on the floor, he lowered his gaze, but it was too late.

"What's the matter, Wingull?" Violet eyes and sunkissed shoulders emerged above the edge of the bath. "Why do you look like you had swallowed something sour again?" Gaius added with cheerful displeasure.

It was altogether too much for him. His head felt empty, his thoughts slow, sluggish, and in this strange, confusing state Wingull could think of only one response.

"You nose is still bleeding, Your Highness."

He immediately regretted speaking. The king's face darkened, all traces of cheerfulness vanished and he answered icily, "I told you my troubles do not concern you, Wingull. Now, what did I say before? Ah, it doesn't matter… Tell me honestly, am I mad to dream of united A'Jule?"

Wingull regained the ability to think after he drank a glass of cold water and enthusiastically nodded, belatedly realizing that he was supposed to shake his head.

"W-what I mean is that you may be mad, Your Highness, but sometimes it is necessary to fall mad," he hastily explained, taking a seat on the marble edge as far from the future king as possible. He went hot and cold all over from the mere thought of what he had seen, but worse yet awaited him – when he closed his eyes, the vivid image returned to haunt him. What did it mean?

"It is necessary to fall mad…" meanwhile, whispered Gaius. "I like how you said it. My father doesn't understand that unless you have an impossible dream, you will not achieve anything. Always aim higher than what you truly can do, then you won't lose… I shall not resign to fate. Never, so as long as I live. If my father is too weak to act, content to become a king consigned to oblivion, I shall unite A'Jule in his stead. It was in my head for years now… how to capture Khan Bark, subdue or persuade the leaders of warring tribes, how to help us find our new identity and withstand against our enemies – all except one little detail. How do I begin?"

"I came, I saw, I conquered," continued the young heir. "So had once said a renowned general of Rashugal army before he was crowned Emperor. Sometimes we should learn from our enemies. Perhaps I will begin like he did, by seizing complete control over the military."

Wingull tried to concentrate on Gaius's words and he succeeded, finding himself bewitched by their power. Why didn't he understand his lord earlier? Having dropped on one knee, he pressed his right fist to his frantically beating heart and solemnly proclaimed:

"I am with you until the end, Your Highness."

He did not know what inspired him to swear such an oath, but it felt oddly satisfying.

"I never thought you were so passionate about the subject of revolution…"

"I am, Your Highness." And there Wingull got carried away. "We have never spoken so frankly with each other, but today I feel as though I need not bother with manners or appropriateness of my words. I am an orphan, as you may recall, but it was not by a blind coincidence that I grew up without parents or home. Our clan was attacked and my family slaughtered. I was little, could not even lift a sword… My story isn't without precedent. Many suffer from lawlessness which spread over A'Jule like a plague and many beg for help in vain. You are a thousand times right that we need to set aside the superficial differences and unite; you are a thousand times right that no leader is strong and audacious enough to succeed in the endeavor." He took a deep breath, feeling as though he was choking with words. He desperately wanted to believe Gaius would protect the likes of him and Yuko. "I did not hope that it could happen in my lifetime or that I would take part in it. I am not very lucky. But when I hear you speak with passion and foresight, a new faith is born in my soul."

"I wish we spoke sooner, for we seem to understand each other well. When the time comes, I will remember and reward your zeal. Together then?" A wry smile touched Gaius's lips. "The road will be long and bloody…"

It helped if Wingull looked at him as his lord and commander, as more godlike than human. But then Gaius climbed over the marble edge of the bath and he suddenly wanted to flick droplets of water off his shoulders or run his fingers through wet locks of raven-black hair. He didn't know what to do with himself. He blamed the heartache he felt for his lord for that new pleasant feeling; he tried to think of it as pity or twisted gratitude, or even passion they shared for the noble cause, but every such thought brought only disappointment.

He hoped the mirage would vanish at dawn, after he spent a sleepless night, thinking of Gaius, yet his hopes were not realized. Wingull was no longer confused, but tormented even more, fretting over numerous questions in his mind and avoiding the young king as much as he could.

"I am sick," he told Yuko four days later. "I do not feel like myself anymore and everywhere I go, I cannot stop thinking of him. How he speaks, how he moves, with honed grace, how he looks at me… or maybe I lie to myself, wishing it to be so."

"You fell in love," said Yuko, stern and sad. "A foolish young love… From it there is no escape, but it will only bring you pain."

"It isn't foolish," he objected coldly. "My quarrels with Leito over a cake when I was a child were foolish, I see that, but now is a different matter altogether…"

"How wise is it to fall in love with a king? I have been like you, once. He was a kind man and I dreamt he would take me away…" A grimace of disgust distorted her features. "But there was naught more in him than this polished, glittering kindness, like a precious stone… it shone brightly, but gave no warmth. When you agonize and bleed, find the strength to laugh at yourself and it should be your first step to recovery. I did."

Sometimes, underneath endless layers of grief, Wingull saw glimpses of iron will.

"But I do not want to recover, as strange as it may seem… I am sick but happy."

Yuko rose and flitted from the chair to the couch, pressing herself to his shoulder. "My poor, poor Wingull… If you don't, you will burn inside until only ashes will remain and wasteland. What can grow on barren stones?"

"I don't know," he mumbled through clenched teeth. "But I am stronger than that; I have to be. He told me a secret the other day… Forgive me, Yuko, it isn't mine to speak of, but I saw a new sun rising above A'Jule. I have to be strong for you, too."

"You frighten me, Wingull," thin fingers stroked his cheek gently. "I am glad I am not in love with you. It's much easier that way… But I will still pray to Efreet for your safety. You are so reckless sometimes."

Therefore, Wingull was relieved when master Zhao sent him and Leito away to Ha Mil for a month. At first, he despaired deeply for many reasons – being away from the object of his desires was but one of them – yet soon came to see the separation differently. It was an opportunity to look at his relationship with the young heir soberly and he wasn't going to waste it.

***o***

In the south of A'Jule valley, where two rivers merged, sprawled a small peaceful village of Ha Mil. Once, when a major trade route passed through it, Ha Mil was a prosperous town and massive houses built from sturdy bricks with ornate red roofs stood despondently in the wake of slow decline. Around the settlement, as far as the eye could see, stretched the green sea of fields and grooves wherefrom the smell of chamomiles and fresh apples was wafted along by the summer breeze.

There, under the canopy of branchy trees, Wingull had finally found peace.

In the time he didn't dedicate to training or studies, he thought of heroism and revolution. It uplifted his spirits to find his own worth, a way to apply his talent and rise in Gaius's estimation. He was captivated by the images of their triumphant entrance into Khan Bark although he had never been to those parts; his imagination easily filled in the gaps in memory and often his dreams assumed fantastic nature. He perceived the revolution as the growth of a human soul, his own and the collective soul of all people of A'Jule. Gaius was its romantic embodiment. For the hundredth time he relived the moment when his lord confessed to a desire to become the leader of the uprising – and he was but twenty years of age! To think of challenging him seemed almost sacrilegious now. Or childish. Many of his previous aspirations appeared laughably insignificant in hindsight.

Truthfully, Wingull caught himself thinking that he was less concerned with what they rebelled against than with the knowledge that they opposed… something. Anything. His very existence embodied contradiction. He rebelled against fate and circumstances long before he even comprehended the meaning of the word rebellion; he was shaped, unwillingly, before he was given a choice to shape himself.

And only at night, staring at the glowing wine tree, he allowed his thoughts to wander outside of the confinement of purpose or any common _good_ and they obstinately returned to Yuko and Gaius. And then he longed to come back, to clasp his sworn sister in his arms and lose himself in his lord's cold violet eyes, if only for one moment.

Leito, too, became insignificant like those childish dreams. Wingull preferred to forget about their rivalry, but Zhao's son stubbornly did not want to relinquish the hope to defeat him somehow. One day he was strolling along the wooden bridge, thinking about improving his strategies in xiangqi, and Leito tried to taunt him into a conversation. Wingull paid him no heed. On the following morning, while he enjoyed a brief respite from sword fighting, Zhao's son sat across from him and mockingly declared:

"I am engaged to Mariko and you are still visiting brothels. Don't you think it is time to admit that you lost?"

Mariko was the daughter of the provincial lord to whom belonged a few villages, including Ha Mil, and lord Hajime (although after the incident in the garden Wingull was reluctant to title Gaius's father even in his thoughts) cherished a dream to annex his lands to his small realm.

"I did not know we competed," he retorted calmly. "But if you believe it a victory to spend the rest of your life with a woman you do not love, then so be it. At least, I am still free."

"What do you know of love? We dote upon each other!"

He did not know what he knew about love; he has been scorched by its fickle flame and immediately understood what it was.

"Wasn't your marriage arranged? If so, you are lucky to love your bride."

"Spirits be praised, I _am_ lucky!" He said smugly. "And you… People talk of many things. They say Gaius is out of favor with the king, unlike my father, so you will be lucky not to get exiled with him."

"People also used to say that Spirits do not exist."

"You have to be blind not to notice the animosity between the king and his son. Are you really that nearsighted or do you pretend well because for a moment I actually believed you?"

Wingull curled his lips, but said naught more. He counted days until he would be free and one summer morning his fervent wish was granted.

***o***

Upon returning to El Fe, he visited Yuko and told her about his adventures. She happily remarked that he looked healthier, grew a bit taller and even got a suntan although Wingull was certain on his pale skin it didn't show. Then the smile vanished from her face and in a murmur his sworn sister told him that Gaius was rumored to be grievously ill. Wingull suddenly felt faint and with a palpitating heart ran towards the gray bulk of the castle as fast as his legs would carry him.

In front of Gaius's room he halted, calmed down and only then entered. Surprised and relieved, he found his lord in perfect health, sitting upright on the couch adorned with citron flowers and staring blankly at the wall. His face was dismal, but determination showed through the misery, not despair or inconsolable grief.

"I see you came back, Wingull. My father decided he is going to slowly bore me to death and he would have his wish fulfilled if you didn't return."

"I thought you were unwell, Your Highness," mumbled Wingull, his cheeks glowing from shame. His lips lingered on Gaius's hand a moment longer than it was appropriate by etiquette.

"You shouldn't believe rumors, but I suppose I cannot blame you. I am in confinement. Clan Shin trespassed against the law again and I gathered a small detachment of cavalry, intercepted them on the road to Khan Bark and eliminated them to the last person." The young king untucked his legs from under him and leaned against the cushion, as if fatigued. "Father was… dissatisfied because I disobeyed a direct order and instead of a reward, I was imprisoned in my own room. But do not worry, it is only a minor setback. I spoke to one of the generals whose opinion coincides with mine and he promised to render me the support I need."

Overjoyed to see Gaius, Wingull under the pretext of receiving good news didn't hide his feelings.

"I was more worried you might have been injured…"

"Injured?" Gaius laughed. "It was a pathetic excuse invented by father to keep me confined which may lay me open to ridicule. He is weak and frightened, but he wants to appear strong… hence the vaunted display of self-confidence. However, my will shall endure everything." There was a flicker of longing in his eyes. "Tell me, have these last days been warm? And Ha Mil… I have been there twice. I remember it to be a scenic place of extraordinary beauty."

Wishing the conversation to last an eternity, Wingull enthusiastically told Gaius about his adventures, withholding only the story of his personal rivalry with Leito which ended in a brief duel he easily won, and by the time he had to retire to his chambers, he succeeded in heartening his lord. He came on the following day and the day after, entering the room early in the morning and leaving when the long shadows lazily stretched on the ground. He reasoned that Gaius needed him the most when the rest of the world abandoned him. On the third day two guards barred his way and he was told that he could not visit the young heir until lord Hajime released him. Wingull was suspiciously compliant.

"I am going to climb into his room tonight. Confound it! Even if they send all Four Great Spirits after me, I will not renounce my oath to him."

A few hours later, Wingull was pacing up and down Yuko's room, speaking to himself, and his sworn sister listened to him with a worried expression on her pale face.

"Do not do anything foolish, Wingull," she implored each time he lapsed into silence. "He is the king's son, they won't dare execute him, but you… you are replaceable."

"I know he needs me."

"And I need you, too. Why can't you see it? He will find someone else willing to do his bidding, but I will be left alone… Please, Wingull, stay here, where they won't look for you."

"I will not accept what you say," he objected heatedly. "No one will be more loyal to him than me and I intend to prove it whatever the cost!"

"Are you still consumed by that accursed love? You will die!" She buried her face in both palms and sobbed. "This world is so unbearably cruel…"

Wingull ran out of the room and at a brisk pace headed towards the castle – away from the crying girl, away from his guilt and doubts, away, away… (_…perhaps she is right, after all_). Seeking oblivion, he fell onto his bed and as he was, fully clothed, tried to rest. But instead he was tossing and turning, as though in a fever, rising almost every hour to have a glass of cold water, and when the night came, he felt fatigued but immensely relieved.

The castle was quiet as a tomb. Without hindrance he snuck past the indolent guards, blending with the darkness, and slipped out of the main building into the inner garden. Gaius's room was on the third floor and Wingull had scraped both of his palms on the stones by the time he reached the window and tapped gently at the glass. When there was no response, he pulled himself up on the windowsill and climbed inside.

Gaius played xiangqi with himself, but it seemed that halfway through the game he fell asleep, having reclined his head on a pillow. Wingull carefully gathered the pieces and put the board away, contemplating to guard his lord while he was resting, however, the light noise woke him up.

"Forgive me, Your Highness…" He froze in the middle of the room, acutely feeling his own uselessness.

"Wingull? I hoped you'd find a way to visit me and dispel my boredom."

Even in a hopeless condition, Gaius managed to comport himself with pride. Wingull picked up a _general_ from the floor, twizzled it around his fingers and placed it onto the bedside table. He prepared a speech in his mind before he rather boldly infringed upon the obligation to serve the current king, but his thoughts scattered about and his eyes obstinately lingered on Gaius's exposed collarbone. He caught himself imagining the young heir without clothes and unnoticeably passed a trembling hand across his forehead to banish the untimely haunting (_…and inappropriate_) thought. What was happening to him?

"I always liked xiangqi…" Wingull finally found his tongue and regained composure. "Lifeless pieces battle on the small board, you lose or win without shedding a drop of blood, without having to worry about the moral constraints and responsibility you bear for your soldiers. You can implement a variety of strategies to further understand how to act on a real battlefield… I've been thinking for a few days. You are our general and revolution is doomed without your presence. I can obey your orders, but I cannot inspire people. If we want to subdue our enemy, it is time for you to leave the palace and fly across the board to strike a blow into his heart."

"You found a way to free me from this prison?" Gaius drew forward, a wild gleam momentarily returning life to his dull eyes.

"I believe I did. I made contact with your loyal generals and they are willing to provide troops to cover your retreat, but they won't be of any help to us inside El Fe. For that I will enlist a support of a girl I know… from a brothel."

"Humph, how reliable is she?"

"Yuko doesn't know about the revolution, but you can trust her as much you trust me, Your Highness. I…"

"Is she your lover? I will not entrust the fate of my country to a whore you met a few weeks ago."

Wingull swallowed to wet his dry throat. "N-no, not at all, we… She is my sister."

"Your sister? I didn't know you had siblings."

"She is my sworn sister… I've known her for a year and I can swear upon my life that she will not betray us."

Gaius chuckled, "So that would be the reason behind your frequent visits to the brothel. There were many ludicrous rumors afloat, but I know you are wholly dedicated to the revolution." The young heir from underneath the pillow procured a map and smoothed it out on the blanket. "If you can lead me out of El Fe, we will head to the fortified fortress in the mountains. A small force will be enough to scatter my father's troops and recapture the castle."

In such a way the revolution begins, thought Wingull. Something so complex, ripening for decades, possibly centuries, is born almost casually in a mind of one man, in a small room, in a conversation – like love. All passions were alike.

"Are you afraid, Wingull?"

Gaius's question caught him unawares.

"I am, Your Highness, but not for myself."

For a whole week Wingull worked on the map or played xiangqi with Gaius in the morning and left at noon to attend the lessons. He wasn't important enough to be regarded as a threat therefore he easily fooled a spy who was sent to follow him around. He felt that the revolution was finally given a clear direction and worked without rest to free his lord. The plan was to escape the castle through the same window Wingull chose to sneak inside, strike down the resistance and quickly head to the nearest inn where Yuko would wait for them with spare clothing, provision and horses. Outside El Fe they would join with the general's forces. His sister told him he should sleep more, but he couldn't. He was dreaming of a wide white road, of fiery horses carrying him along that road, and there was no end to his journey. No purpose.

And yet, circumstances be damned, he could not forget about his selfish desire to love his king.

Sometimes they lay on the bed, their elbows touching, the map was abandoned and xiangqi pieces were scattered on the floor. Gaius was silent, and Wingull pretended that he was bold enough to outstretch his hand and plunge his fingers into raven-black hair or curse all prudence and kiss him. He without vacillation sacrificed his empty dream in the name of the revolution, but no one could forbid him to torment himself and revel in his misery.

By the end of the week he was prepared for any failure, found numerous escape routes out of El Fe, reviewed the maps of underground tunnels, and had an emergency solution for the most unlikely scenario if Yuko betrayed them. But nothing could possibly prepare him for a stunning discovery which nearly destroyed all his meticulously woven schemes.

Gaius had a lover.

Wingull saw them when he was preparing to climb into his lord's room on a morning exactly one week away from the date they chose for their escape. At first he didn't understand why the king sat in such an unusual pose, having thrown his head back, not even fully unclothed as if it was done hastily, haphazardly, meaninglessly. Then – a knife slashed his heart – he noticed long auburn hair and a slender arm on white sheets. There was a nauseating sensation in his stomach – he was robbed, betrayed, deceived.

She moved away and Wingull felt his head reel. He lost balance, his foot slipped off the stone and he fell. His back hit the ground, blood filled his mouth. Crushed by anguish of body and mind, he writhed on green grass, asking himself why Gaius chose Mariko, Leito's bride, hating himself and his cowardice. It was sheer madness, but in countless layers of perverted human thoughts, delusions, disappointed hopes and ambitions, nevertheless hid an explanation.

"Gaius… why? Why?"

His voice broke off. Perhaps, he damaged a limb and they would not be able to escape together. Perhaps, Gaius should go on alone, for he deserved a better servant than Wingull who against reason harbored a childish hope and endangered their venture. Perhaps he was never good enough.

He needed to get away. Leaning on both palms and biting his lips from pain to suppress a groan, Wingull pushed off the wet ground – it drizzled at night – and slowly straightened. Staggered, took a step forward, fell, tried to rise again. Fell.

Violet darkness flooded his eyes.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

_"Revolution is the pinnacle of growth, the hardening of a soul in the crucible of terrible trials, the flight of a free thought. Revolution is a gale and I am a fragile boat; tall waves beat against the wooden sides, striving to overflow me, drag me into the deep, but I am struggling to remain afloat. I lost direction, I lost the sails, but I retained my desperation and it will not allow me to drown. I did not understand the revolution and I am not sure I understand it now." _

Wingull ran through the streets of El Fe where his feet would take him, involuntarily shoving rare passersby aside and turning a deaf ear to the angry shouts which rang after him. Perhaps they regarded him as a worthless sot who got himself into a tavern brawl or a madman, but he was not concerned with them – let them gloat and whisper with contempt, he was utterly consumed by a desire to end everything. He couldn't return to the castle, holding his head as proudly as ever, and pretend that he hadn't seen Gaius with Mariko; he could neither forget nor feign indifference. His deliverance, he reasoned, was a cowardly escape into nowhere – his thoughts which otherwise were in a state of confusion as one converged thereon. He could become a mercenary in Rashugal or a hermit in the remote corner of A'Jule, giving up the struggle, abandoning his aspirations and repudiating his oath because he lacked strength of character to continue.

But whose fault it was that Gaius whom he perceived to be perfect disappointed his hopes?

As though to ridicule and torment him further, on the cloudless sky hung a glowing orange disk, the heat was oppressing, and gusts of wind died in the crones of trees, having barely been born. Windows were shut tightly and birds dolefully pecked at the dusty stones. Cold sweat streamed down his forehead, but he didn't bother to wipe it off. Heat suffocated gaiety; Wingull acutely felt emptiness in the streets where happy, careless children often played because it echoed his own suffering and somehow alleviated it, reminding him that he was not alone. It seemed to him that the whole city agonized in scorching sunlight and no life remained in it except for rare embittered passersby.

"_How can I look him in the eyes… no, no, I have to disappear forever. I have no other choice._"

When Wingull awoke from his dreary dream, he stood in front of the brothel whereto his legs had carried him against his will and he perceived it as a sign. Having flung open the double doors, he flew upstairs. The pain in his back remitted or he ceased feeling it.

"She is with a guest," one of the girls tried to object, but Wingull rudely pushed her aside. He barged into his sister's room, unceremoniously, despite his loud protests, dragged a middle-aged man into the hallway, threw him a blanket to cover himself and slammed the door into his face.

Yuko slipped into a loose shirt and sat on the edge of her bed, looking at him in frightened perplexity. She appeared pale and silent, carved in stone, condemning him with resigned expression on her face – martyrdom, he admitted, was crowned with a certain romantic halo, but he was too proud to accept such pitiful fate.

"What happened, Wingull? You look awful in those dirty and torn clothes with scratches on your arms and face. Did they discover our plot? Did you fight anyone?"

"We need to leave, Yuko. Now! Gather your belongings, take all your money and vanish into nothingness with me." Wingull trembled with impatience and could not speak calmly. "I came here to take you away, to end everything, Spirits be damned!"

"But I thought we… No, I am not going anywhere until you give me an explanation."

"What is there to explain? I cannot serve him anymore, I cannot even bear a thought of seeing him again. What would you have me do? I wish I could forget – you don't understand, I genuinely wish to lose my memory, but nature isn't as merciful."

"Your incoherent babbling worries me. What had he done to you?"

What had Gaius done? Wingull bitterly laughed.

"Nothing, he did nothing at all. He only showed me that I am a worthless nobody, that all I've done for him had not been appreciated, that I could turn my soul inside out and he would… he would spit there and… I cannot bear it any longer. I admired him, I loved him and now I imagine him with Mariko and disgust fills me for I am thus reminded of his flaws and my own youthful idiocy. You were right, I am a fool." He sat by her side and lowered his head onto her knees. "Please, Yuko, oblige me. I cannot lose you…"

She passed her thin hand over his hair, stroked him consolingly.

"So lord Gaius has a lover…"

"I would prefer he had a lover I've never met, but she is Leito's betrothed and she must have whispered poisonous lies about me into his ears. What humiliation! Everything is finished now…"

"No, Wingull, it is only the beginning. You must fight them! Return to the palace, pretend that you hadn't seen anything, think, look around and think again – you will find their weakness."

"Why? Why did he choose her? I am a coward, but I am certain I gave myself away on more than one occasion. Or maybe I should have been more frank with him and I regret my actions deeply now… How pointless it is to think of countless hypothetical questions! I must confess to you I understand his father; I hate him still, but I understand… He can compel you to feel like a nonentity."

"Listen to me, I won't go anywhere. I won't let you squander the brightest opportunity in your life to find your rightful place in this world. Come to your senses, Wingull. I am sorry I was right about him, I prayed this moment would never come, but maybe you are exaggerating and there is still a glimmer of hope…"

Yuko's voice, regardless of what she said, soothed and he froze in her arms, closed his eyes.

"I don't want it anymore. My adoration, my inspiration, my love – they were extinguished like candle flame in the wind."

"Hush, Wingull, don't say that."

"I can't." Troubled by her tone, he raised his head and saw streaks of tears on her face.

"I know you can."

"Yuko… Don't cry, please. You shouldn't…"

She clenched his hands in hers with unexpected force. "Tell me that you can, Wingull. Tell me, I am begging you, that you are not a coward…"

"I don't understand."

She shuddered. "I was given to a man when I was thirteen and he did with me everything he wanted. For hours I only wished death would come for me, embrace me, mitigate my pain… take me far, far away from this world. Was there a reason for such cruelty? Find me a reason for my suffering, even the most laughable, simple reason and I… I will run away with you to the furthest end of Rise Maxia. I will not reproach you for abandoning your king, I will not remind you that you were steps away from achieving what others only dreamt of, I will help you find glory and freedom… only give me _one_ reason. Am I asking too much?"

Guilt swept over him like a tidal way. "I don't understand," he murmured, defeated.

Yuko rose, trembling, but the short speech had sapped all her strength and she fell flat onto the bed, buried her face in a pillow and wept. "You have no right to be weaker than I am."

And Wingull understood. He kneeled by her side, wrapped his arms around her frail shoulders, kissed her disheveled hair, and, suppressing his own sobs, whispered again and again, "Forgive me, Yuko, please, forgive me… I was weak, I was wrong… I will come back, I will fight for my rightful place, for my love, only forgive me."

Having forgotten himself, having become utterly confused about his feelings, he didn't notice when he began kissing her lips, when his hands slipped inside her blouse, when his fingers touched her smooth skin. He awoke abruptly and with a groan rolled over to the opposite side of the bed.

"Forgive me…"

She pressed herself to his back and in silence they lay until the orange disk faded and contours of buildings were completely enveloped by darkness.

The world was crueler than he had imagined and to prevail, he too had to become ruthless. Like children who caught butterflies in the garden and tore off their wings.

That night Wingull could not sleep. With renewed will he decided he would bring their plan to completion. Yuko was right to rebuke him sharply: distressed as he was, he could have easily misjudged the gravity and meaning of his discovery and even if he did not, what transpired in the end was not important. Strange calmness descended upon him, he found a new strength within himself – a strength to fight for what he wanted.

It was easier than he imagined. When Wingull faced Gaius again, he acted naturally, smiled and even won three games of xiangqi in a row, inspired by the sudden influx of enthusiasm he felt the night before. With gratitude he remembered Yuko's words. Soon, he thought, he would set her free – no, he would set all of them free, even himself. There was simply one more obstacle to overcome.

Gaius often complained about insomnia; his vigorous, active nature suffered from idleness and without an outlet for the seething energy, he could spend two or three nights without getting a wink of sleep. Wingull discovered a recipe of an herb tea which helped him rest for a few hours. Having prepared the fragrant drink, he waited until Gaius closed his eyes and availed himself on the opportunity to look through his personal belongings. Luck favored him and he found letters, carelessly scattered on the surface as if waiting to be read. Mariko wrote his lord as often as twice a week and, having abandoned all prudence in her infatuation with the young heir, confessed her feelings – at times in a rather vulgar manner, mentioning a particular detail of their intimate encounter which made Wingull go hot and cold all over. Then he wrote two letters of his own and gave them to Yuko with a small bag of gald to pay the girls who offered to deliver them on the set date and, relieved, waited. There was little else he could do.

On the morning of the day he chose for their escape, he met Leito. The youth seemed happy in his ignorance and Wingull could not refrain from a light smirk – his happiness was frail, like a glass vase, painted in motley colors but empty inside. The girl he was going to marry soon had sold her soul and body to a man whose whole life was devoted to conquest and ambition and in whose heart there was no place for anything or anyone but revolution.

And Wingull if he did everything correctly.

"I see you recovered from that defeat in Ha Mil," he remarked causally.

"Don't get your hopes up," arrogantly retorted Leito. Ignorance indeed was bliss, but it never lasted forever. "I overheard that lord Hajime would exile lord Gaius and his entourage to a remote fortress on the island for half a year. It is hardly better than prison."

He imagined Leito's face when he would learn of Mariko's true allegiance and went away, laughing. The end was nigh, he thought, feeling neither fear nor guilt, but until then he will not look at his lord as frivolously as he used to.

In the evening the heat receded and shadows stretched their cool, shapeless arms into the windows. Wingull dressed in all black, climbed into Gaius's room and, glancing at the clock, solemnly proclaimed:

"It is time, my lord."

Gaius nodded – his face was stern, dismal – and looked around for the last time. He wore unpretentious gray clothes so as to conceal his identity, but nothing diminished his stateliness and even in simple garments he was a king, unsung and unknown as of yet, however, if they succeed, he will step over the threshold of his room in spring not as the heir to the throne but as the anointed ruler.

"You should go first," continued Wingull. "If the guards notice you are escaping, I will stall them."

He did not necessarily tell his lord the whole truth. Although he was willing be left behind, he had an ulterior motive to linger in Gaius's room for a moment longer, arranging pillows with citron flowers, lighting a candle and placing Mariko's letters in plain view. Wingull felt giddy from his own audacity. What if his suppositions were wrong and lord Gaius _did_ love Leito's bride? He would never forgive Wingull for what he had done and he would silently suffer however severe a punishment, knowing that if he were given that choice time and time again, he would not act differently. Upon concluding the preparations, he climbed down and by the low fence joined his lord who stood, with unfeigned delight inhaling fresh air.

"It has been so long since I stood like this, enjoying the nightly cool," he said wistfully.

"We need to hurry, Your Highness. Once we are safe, you will enjoy your newly acquired freedom more keenly."

"Is this a promise?"

Gaius's question, although spoken nonchalantly, plunged him into confusion. Despite what he told Yuko, he could not hate his lord, finding as the time passed more and more flaws in his thoughts, and therefore he anew began guessing whether Gaius implied more and if so, what was hidden in his words. A mockery? An invitation? A challenge?

Two fugitives stole past the guards unnoticed. They didn't show vigilance, expecting it to be a night like any other, and without hindrance Gaius and Wingull descended into the tunnel which led to the basement of the tavern where Yuko awaited them. Inside, the air was stale and the odor of sewage was wafted with draught. Liquid dirt squelched underneath their boots as they went on blindly, but on the interception Wingull picked up a torch and soft crimson light flooded the narrow corridor, driving away quivering shadows into the darkest corners.

"Look at the tall ceilings – these tunnels are at least two centuries old. I never knew that," quietly said Gaius, unsheathing his sword.

"Wouldn't it make them older than the castle?"

"However unlikely it seems, they are older. Who built them I wonder…"

They turned the corner and continued walking uphill, relying on Wingull's memory. From time to time mice or rats dashed from underneath their feet, squeaking, but Gaius paid them no heed. Straining his ears and eyes, he looked for a more formidable opponent, yet even if their absence was discovered, nobody would suspect they hid in the tunnels.

When they climbed into the cellar, they were met by Yuko.

"Follow me," she whispered, her face white as a sheet in crimson sheens of torchlight.

"Lord Gaius, this is the girl I was speaking of, Yuko…"

"It isn't the time for formalities," the future king slightly bowed his head to acknowledge his sister's presence.

"He is right, we should hurry. They discovered you escaped from the palace. When I went outside about ten minutes ago, I heard sounds of commotion and assumed the worst. They are gathering a pursuit."

They ascended the stairs and without being noticed slipped through the dim room full of frequenters of different sort: there were drunkards and sailors, paupers and well-dressed merchants blending in with more suspicious lot. Nobody recognized Gaius. In the stables, Wingull saddled both horses and turned to Yuko. It was decided that she could not go with them for too many a reason, one being that they needed a spy in El Fe. She willingly offered her assistance.

"Farewell, Yuko, and be careful, please. Don't try to thwart the pursuers, I will deal with them myself and lord Gaius will help. Wait for me, I will come to visit you as soon as I can and take you away from here. Far, far away…"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, so thin and fragile, as if fading. "Thank you for everything… Wingull." His heart ached, but he let her go and flung himself into the saddle.

"Yuko…"

"You must go, lord Gaius is waiting."

Wingull urged his stallion into the street. Two shadows flitted, vanishing in darkness, and behind them into the nightly sky shot up avid tongues of flames. Yuko started a fire to befuddle the guards, distract them while they reached the gate and took the remaining opposition by surprise. They reckoned correctly that they would face only the usual dozen of footsoldiers who were on the watch, dreaming of a warm bed or a mug of ale.

Two horses appeared suddenly, flying like twin arrows from a bow, a sleepy soldier ordered them to halt, his voice drowning in screams as their swords flashed and fell as one, spilling blood onto the dusty stones.

"Open the gates!" Imperiously commanded Gaius.

None of the guards were prepared to die that night and, having rejoined with their allied forces without further ado, the small cavalcade disappeared in the forest. Their escape went on in a satisfyingly not dramatic manner. The pursuit, if it ever was sent after them, had hopelessly lagged behind, having lost their trail. After hours of monotonous ride to the clatter of hooves, across the valleys and through the groves, illumined with silver moonlight, they reached their first destination, a small inn. Gaius agreed to halt briefly only to let their mounts rest. Wingull did not remember seeing his lord so active; exuberant energy which seethed inside him had finally found an outlet and like a river without a dam, it burst its banks, refusing to remain curbed a moment longer. But even he recognized the danger of riding their horses to death.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," said Wingull once the door behind them closed. He leaned against the warm, rough wood as though to prevent it from being opened even if it cost him his life.

Gaius stood in front of the window – shoulders unbent, head thrown back, eyes closed – and enjoyed the smell of flowers and mowed grass, as the sun was slowly rising from behind the hills, dispersing the mist and waking small birds which enlivened the predawn stillness with merry chirp.

"What is it that I should forgive you for?"

"Mariko."

"Mariko? So you knew then… I suspected you would not leave that matter unsolved."

"I…" His voice trailed off, drowned in the peaceful sounds of the approaching morning. Everything suddenly seemed insignificant, almost painfully so, and he felt tired – he would close his eyes and drift into black nothingness if not for the obligatory conversation. "I thought I brought to ruin the future you had with her, but I simply could not have… acted otherwise. And now you bewilder me, instead of a punishment offering a kind understanding…"

"It is very hard to misinterpret the way you look at me every day and even harder so to resist the candid invitation. I was tempted many times, I admit, to forget about the circumstances or constraints the society had imposed on me, but in the ordeal I found myself in every such wish was foolish."

"But I…" He couldn't say another word and dropped his head onto his chest. He must have been dreaming the whole time about his king wanting him, using him, telling him the truth he did not hope to hear.

"I know you wanted to aid me, fervently, and I appreciate your efforts," Gaius heaved a sigh, "… a lot, but attempts are only that – attempts and naught more. An attempt, even as genuine as yours, was not enough. I couldn't bet my country's future on you and you alone. But as it is designed by nature, everybody wants something. I wanted freedom and war and she wanted me in bed with her… quite recklessly, I must say in retrospect."

"You are not going to save her?" Wingull clenched the door knob in his left hand. "She is…"

"She lost, Wingull. What does it matter now? She was to find a way out of the predicament if you betrayed me or failed to return me my freedom, but you outsmarted her somehow. Her father was intimately familiar with the current situation and I planned to use him to achieve that which you could not… I was choking in that room, I could not remain imprisoned for much longer! And then I had to think how to oppose my father who, although weak, is in power still." The young king moved away from the window. "Have you done enough?"

"I've done enough to ruin her, Your Highness. While you were asleep, I discovered letters which she sent to you, luring her into your room on the evening of our escape in such an hour when we would no longer be there. She was to come, wearing seductive clothes, and please you with a gift of her choosing. From those letters I knew that you never responded and therefore took a liberty to write one to her in my own handwriting without fear of being discovered. I knew she would come. Through Yuko I sent another letter to her future husband and his father, revealing her infidelity and promising more evidence on the spot."

"Humph, I see that my faith in you was not misplaced. Her infidelity will inevitably create a rift between Zhao and Mariko's father, which will tilt the balance of power in my favor. If we play this trump card correctly, the king I unfortunately call my father will have to choose sides, the fragile alliance will crumble and we will defeat them one by one."

"You have provided for every eventuality. I only wished… I knew…" His voice betrayed him once again. Wingull forced himself to look into violet eyes and felt an unexpected surge of joyful, unconcerned courage. He was jumping headlong into the whirlpool of unknown, but at least he could do so with a smile rather than trembling from fear (_…you are a fool, thinking about it now_). "I wanted to confess…"

He forgave Gaius and in the middle of nowhere even the most daring dream seemed attainable.

"I know… Do not think of it as a reward – I will reward your efforts and loyalty by giving you a permanent position by my side. I've wanted it since you came back from Ha Mil."

Although the king's son hinted on his affection towards Wingull earlier in the conversation, the confession startled him like a thunderbolt in a clear sky. He tentatively took Gaius's hand into his own and with sweet trepidation in his chest pressed it to his lips, putting as much tenderness as he could into an awkward gesture.

The moment seemed surreal.

…They were on the road a few hours later and the day promised to be uneventful. The pursuit had doubtlessly lost their trail and the news of their escape could not yet reach these parts. Nevertheless, they rode quickly, exchanging but terse remarks during brief halts to feed and water the horses or choose direction on the crossroads. Wingull forced himself not to dwell on the discourse with his lord even in his thoughts, whether his affection was reciprocal or his fevered imagination played a cruel joke on him. He won and allowed himself to revel in his freedom, holding his face to the gusts of cool wind… Trouble came when no one expected it. They were passing through the forest, overgrown with ancient oaks and beeches, when suddenly Gaius who rode in the front row ordered the cavalcade to halt. A moment later Wingull intuitively felt a foreign presence. Ruffians! On the road twenty or so yards away stood a giant – there was no other word to describe the stranger who would stand out in any crowd due to his colossal height. It seemed he could effortlessly pick up a man as tall as his lord and break his back. The strength in his arms must have been enormous, judging by the ease with which he threw a hammer the size of a barrel over his shoulder. He wore a long coat from animal's hides, despite the heat, and a long beard concealed his features with the exception of a hawknose and piercing eyes which betrayed a presence of a shrewd mind. Wingull vaguely remembered stories about giant people from the north who had once inhabited A'Jule, but they were rumored to have disappeared long ago.

"It is dangerous, my lord…" Wingull began when Gaius touched the reins of his horse and fearlessly guided it towards the stranger.

The giant smirked and beckoned two monsters which hereto remained invisible to their eyes.

"Wingull." Gaius darted but a quick glance at him and he leapt off the horse at once. The sword crossed with the claws and in two sharp swings Wingull beheaded both beasts without resorting to his power.

"I am quite impressed with your skills, young master. My name is Jao," cordially said the ruffian. "What's yours?"

"Gaius. I demand that you let us pass."

"Huh. It's quite impossible. You see, no one leaves this forest with a wallet."

"I have about two dozen soldiers and Wingull is worth another dozen, if you don't count me. But I am a fair man so I will challenge you alone."

'_What are you doing, Your Highness?_' The question froze on Wingull's lips, his heart sank.

Gaius alighted and assumed a battle stance, firmly placing one foot ahead of the other and raising his long sword. He barely reached Jao's chest and it seemed the giant would dispose of him easily, as he would of an importunate fly. The ruffian must have thought the same, swinging his hammer with speed which Wingull did not expect from a bulky opponent. The gray lightning which was Gaius dashed to the side – Wingull would have reacted no differently – but instead of contenting himself with the successful feint, the king gracefully pushed off the hammer and delivered a blow to Jao's face. The giant roared, spinning around, but instead of Gaius his weapon crushed a lean birch, leaving a visible dent in the ground. The king's elbow, in turn, hit his unprotected neck.

"Please, be careful, Gaius," whispered Wingull, in agitation forgetting to properly title his lord.

The fight went on without change: Jao swung his hammer, missed and the young heir used the opening in his defenses to attack with precise punches to the face and other vulnerable spots. At first, it seemed, they had no effect on the giant, infuriated him more than harmed. Blood showed on his forehead, gushed from his nose, impeding him to move and breathe. Having lost last remnants of patience, desiring to inflict upon him a defeat in one blow, Jao lifted his weapon above his head and shouted:

"Gate, full power!"

Gaius froze, raising his sword at a slant, and called forth a fiery whirlwind which surrounded him like a cocoon. Jao's hammer swished, rushing towards him, but the young king, to Wingull's horror, made no attempt to dodge it. Metal hit against metal, dust rose into the air, and crimson sparks flew asunder, igniting dry brushwood underneath their feet, however, both opponents did not take a single step backwards, having frozen like two skillfully chiseled figures, doomed to never triumph over each other. Wingull barely suppressed a desire to disobey his lord's silent order and interfere. And then Gaius's blade blazed up from the handle to its tip, the young king pushed Jao away and when the latter staggered, shielding his face, he struck a crushing blow to his solar plexus. The ruffian fell onto his knees and Gaius set the blade against his throat.

"What am I to do with you? I can't allow you to rob the travelers of their money in the thick of the forest and I do not wish to kill you needlessly. Say, you swear upon your life which belongs to me as it is that you will give up the dishonorable craft… I think I can believe you, but know that I am your king and deceiving a king will render you liable to many penalties."

The giant nodded in response, but otherwise made no attempt to rise, continuing to sit in a despondent pose. The victory was quite costly for Gaius, he was breathing heavily, his face was spattered with dirt and lined with sweat, but he was not hurt gravely. And he seemed to glow with joy.

"That was very careless of you," said Wingull, approaching them apprehensively. He did not trust the ruffian's wordless promise.

"Can you blame me, Wingull?" Bottomless violet eyes lit up with mirth. "I haven't been this free in… forever, it seems. To feel my heart beat faster and blood boil in my veins… there is no better cure for my apathy. He was a worthy opponent."

"Do you think he will keep his word?"

"He will. I believe he knows I will come back and kill him if he doesn't."

Gaius a bit uncouthly saddled his horse and Wingull followed his example. When the road between tall oaks curved, he turned his head backward. Jao still knelt on the ground, as though stricken into stone by astonishment and humiliation from his first defeat.

When the night spread its velvety wings over the earth, they stopped at another inn which was marked on their map. The scenery changed, tall durable houses were supplanted by squat huts, bustle by tranquility, and the eye delighted to lose itself in the endless expanse of rye fields and green hills. Here and there specks of white and red could be seen, but they did not disturb the general harmony, rather appeared a fascinating part of it. While their allies rested, the young king expressed a desire to wash off dust and sweat from the fight and Wingull promptly found him a deep basin. The water was heated on fire which Gaius kindled with the Spirit's power.

"I did not know you could open _gates_ to the Spirit world," said Wingull, swallowing a spoonful of his frugal meal.

"I cannot summon Great Spirits, I cannot even repeat Jao's trick, but fire and wind always bent to my will easily."

"That fight… What do you think a giant was doing in that forest? All books I read as one asserted that they were supposed to be dead."

"It was obvious he was robbing good people of their money, but the encounter surprised me as well. I do not know what to think of it yet, whether it will be worth the trouble to return and search for his kin. But… do you understand why I had to fight him?" Gaius fastened his eyes on the view, which earlier enraptured Wingull, and finished speaking, quieter. "I will not perish, as long as I have the will to guide and protect the weak."

Wingull sighed and aimlessly stared at his hands which remembered Gaius's touch. Even if he did not hear his lord aright, his lips remembered his strong, warm palm and their closeness, albeit brief, could not lie. Some would say it was wrong to foster those hopes, some would say foolish, but he was audacious and young and intent on redefining the meaning of everything…

_I followed you because you wouldn't let me and Yuko suffer…_

Later, when he lay in bed, thinking of everything and nothing, Gaius came to him; sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off his ornate boots, and whispered his name with unusual tenderness.

"Wingull?"

His heart sank and then began to throb furiously. It seemed to him that if he could cut his chest open, the frightened bird would fly out.

"Your-" his voice broke off from agitation.

He easily guessed why Gaius came. His black hair loosely fell onto his bare shoulders, his suntanned skin was set off beautifully by the sleeveless tunic and, having lost the power of speech, Wingull could but wordlessly stare into his eyes. Entranced.

"Didn't I mention that it is hard to resist you when you look at me like that?"

He obstinately remained silent and to encourage him, the young king pulled his tunic over his head, found Wingull's hand and resolutely pressed it to his chest. Gaius's skin was as smooth as he imagined during long sleepless nights when to the patter of rain or howls of wind, he let himself fall mad and dream of loving his king. Could this be one of those dreams, he asked himself. But, no, he tentatively moved his trembling fingers along the curves of Gaius's body and the illusion did not disappear. On the contrary, his skin was covered in goose bumps and his small nipples hardened. Wingull's fingers felt that, too, and he licked his dry lips.

"Tell me you don't want it and I will stop, I promise," husky whisper flowed into his ears and in breathless suspense he drew forward, closer to that voice. Hitherto he didn't know that fear could be so sweet and the real touch so stirring, awakening many feelings in him.

Wingull's hand lingered on Gaius's hip, as if asking what he wanted, then irresolutely slipped behind his back, along the edge of rough cloth.

"Do you know what you are doing?" The young heir mocked him without malice. "I am aware of your reasons for visiting that brothel. Did I wrongly assume that you have never been with anyone before?"

"N-no…" The paleness on Wingull's face gave place to deep suffusion. "Forgive me…"

"Lie still and worry about nothing."

Gaius's fingers, deft and skilful with the sword, unbuttoned his blouse in a blink of an eye, undid the buckle on his belt, but when they attempted to remove the last article of his clothes, Wingull diffidently moved away and sat up on the bed, crumpling his shirt in his hands.

"Do you trust me?" Gaius inquired, shifting closer until their lips almost touched. "Give me an honest answer – I want to hear nothing but truth from you. If I needed a lie, I wouldn't ask."

Wingull nodded, ashamed of his foolish fears. Gaius's bright, burning eyes seemed to possess the power to expose the deepest corners of his soul and, surrendering, he slowly undressed himself.

"I doubted you once and wrongly so."

_Yet, I will never tell you how close those doubts brought me to abandoning you…_

Strong palms settled on his buttocks, pulled him closer and he did what he wanted all along – he kissed Gaius, but the lead was stolen from him, breathtakingly, as his lips were pushed open and captured between those of the impatient youth. He surrendered, slipped into the warmth of their embrace, pressing himself to the strong, lithe body, flushed and excited and eager.

_But I promise you, Gaius… I will never succumb to my weakness again._

He plunged his fingers into the soft cascade of raven-black hair, and, leaning on his hands which heretofore limply lay around his lover's shoulders, rose to his knees. Gaius's face was in his palms, black locks scattered on his forehead; violet eyes were gazing at him, dimmed with desire, and slowly, so slowly his tongue slid along his skin, wetted the hardened hump of his nipple. Wingull gasped, breathing out air with a soft moan when his lover wrapped his fingers around his hard member, spreading the moist on it with a thumb.

And then they fell onto the sheets, entwined in each other's arms and legs, enjoying every inch of their bodies with passion. Wingull woke up from the dream when unexpected sharp pain transfixed him. His lover was inside him, but suddenly he was uncomfortable and writhing, wishing to tell him – no, order him – to stop. But he didn't. Yuko warned him the first time would not be comfortable. Restraining a scream and clenching crumpled sheets in his fists to hold onto _something_, he tightly wrapped his legs around Gaius's waist and instinctively moved his hips into his thrusts, sharing pleasure, but taking all pain with him. Nothing could alleviate that pain, not even enfeebling bliss, and in the end Wingull felt broken, fatigued and yet immensely satisfied. Gaius lay on his back with his arms splayed out and his soothing warmth protected Wingull from the nightly cool. He pushed his fingers into his lover's hair and ran them through the soft locks again and again, gently, watching the king fall asleep. He was proud of himself and pain only served him as a reminder that he had not been dreaming that night.

In the morning, Wingull woke up to be surprised yet again. Jao, the ruffian Gaius defeated the day before, found them somehow and humbly asked for permission to join their rebellion, inspired by the king's example.

***o***

For the first few days after they arrived at the stronghold in the mountains, Wingull knew no rest. Loyal generals came and departed, leaving a considerable garrison to fortify and protect the walls, Gaius took part in urgent meetings, which he, as the king's shadow, attended as well, persuading his allies to join his insurrection with natural charisma of a brilliant leader and, preoccupied with preparations, they had no time to themselves. At the end of the day, Wingull collapsed onto his bed, bereft of strength, and ultimately he was beginning to think that he would not find even a moment to express his growing affection before he would have to travel again. A new strategy had to be devised, but they could not act blindly therefore on the sixth day, if counting from the morning of their arrival to the fortress, Gaius summoned him and gave him clear orders to return to El Fe, look around, investigate rumors and immediately report to him. Under these conditions, he was afraid that reminding the king of their affair would displease him, however, his fears were groundless. He was to leave before dawn and he was saddling his horse when a silent shadow stepped out of the darkness, startling him, but he relaxed as a familiar voice whispered something into his ear, familiar hands slipped into his blouse and trousers and familiar body pressed itself to his in an unambiguous invitation he found impossible to resist.

Squirming in the saddle a few hours later, Wingull thought that it was a small price to pay for such a pleasant farewell.

El Fe met him with disquieting lull, but it wasn't until he met Yuko that he understood the cause of it. Streets appeared deserted and armed guards patrolled all approaches to the market square and the palace, which would present a difficulty for anyone but Wingull who knew the way around the city as he knew the back of his palm. He adroitly snuck past the barricade, left a message to his sworn sister in the agreed place and not to risk being discovered, left the city.

They met at night in a groove far away from the road so that even a chance traveler would not notice them. In the distance, loomed a formless bulk of El Fe, dotted with tremulous lights, which twinkled like fireflies in the dark. Full moon shone brightly and in its light trees threw their shadows sharply against the calm river waters.

"I am so glad you are back. I was worried, it was silly, I know, but I could not help thinking of all the dangers you would expose yourself to and… it was horrible." Yuko flung herself into his arms and Wingull embraced her tightly, soothingly stroked her hair.

"We reached the fortress without incidents, so you should not trouble yourself on my behalf. We are safe for now."

"Peace won't last long," she said in a sorrowful voice and moved away. "My poor Wingull, you were caught in the storm again and I wish… I wish I could do more. If I can, tell me, and I will. Anything."

He couldn't bear the silent entreaty in her gaze and looked away. "I do not think I understand. What happened? I have never seen El Fe so dreary and frightened."

"You haven't heard then… It was horrible. The letter that you wrote to Zhao about his son's bride caused a war. I did not know what you or lord Gaius wanted, I just hoped it would not destroy your plans."

"I admit I wanted to humiliate Mariko, to separate her and the king, but I did not know it would start a war. Even His Highness only intended to create a rift between his father's most trusted advisors." Wingull rubbed his temples. "How did it come to this?"

"I feared so. What transpired could not be foreseen. When the word you escaped got out, lord Hajime ordered to pursue you, there was confusion, people and horses were running every which way and then… everything seemed to have calmed down somehow before the killings started. Nobody pursued you for that reason. When Zhao's son learned of Mariko's infidelity, when he read those letters, rumors had it he ran amok and in a frenzy of despair beheaded the girl. It enraged her father who appealed to the king and you can guess the rest. Lord Hajime took Zhao's side."

_Leito… you have finally awoken from that pleasant dream. Something tells me you are not happy, but our rivalry no longer concerns me so do whatever you wish. _

"Maybe we can persuade Mariko's father to join us…"

"No, he is stricken by grief and I am afraid he blames lord Gaius for Mariko's death. It might not be his fault, but it is hard to reason with someone whose daughter had been murdered for loving another man than the chosen husband. I pity her. I read her letters, I felt her pain and passion which finally pushed her to act without forethought… You could have been in her place if you were not careful."

"But it was his fault and I am not certain he will deny it."

"Then I pity her even more. A soldier in the game of xiangqi, born of noble blood, but still naught more than a sacrificial lamb."

"I don't," Wingull's pale face hardened. "She did not appreciate her life, she was not satisfied, having riches, a loyal husband and a loving father, and for that she drank the bitter cup of humiliation. I had a hand in her undoing and I regret nothing."

Yuko stood on tiptoes and intently gazed at him. "You changed, Wingull. I do not see even a trace of previous doubts in you."

"My fate is sealed with his now," he smirked gently and his heartbeat quickened as a memory resurfaced in his mind of them frozen in each other's arms above the chasm of time. "Will you forgive me, Yuko, if I die for him? I understood in the end that the revolution is more important than me and my selfish love. I will not distract lord Gaius, but I will be there for him whenever he needs me, as a guard, an advisor or a lover."

"Then you…"

"Yes, I slept with him and for that reason you should not worry about me. I do not seek to die, I am too happy. The war started sooner than we expected, but I have faith in him to find a way which will lead us to victory. You will be free no later than fall. Maybe I will find you a position in the palace when Gaius ascends the throne…"

"No, you shouldn't bother with my fate…"

He masterfully interrupted her. "Say nothing more, Yuko, I do not want to hear it."

"My life is hell, but I got accustomed to it. I do not know what I will do outside of it. I do not know what to wish for, except to see you succeed. I do not know what to believe in, I can only share your faith."

"Then wait for me just a little longer. I will try to see you once again after I contact our scattered allies."

"I will," rustled with the long stalks of grass.

***o***

'_My lord,_

_I have been staying in El Fe for five days now and I am becoming increasingly convinced that we must act exigently. Therefore I am sending you this letter before we can meet face to face. The seeds of animosity between Zhao and Mariko's father you so cleverly planted had borne the fruit of war unexpectedly early after Mariko's death by Leito's hand. Having divided them, we conquer. Your unwise father took Zhao's side, having denied the girl's father justice, and he left infuriated, having sworn vengeance upon the royal house. I am afraid it will not allow us to ally with him, but worry not, I found many subjects willing to take your side if you recapture El Fe, perhaps even strike from within, but of that it is too early to speak. In future Yuko will be able to arrange a meeting with the most significant and influential figures. _

_Lord Hajime's position is very shaky. He relies on Zhao and his son to win this war for him and I believe we should let them fight. Your father has an advantage which will help him defeat his enemy, but the victory will weaken him significantly, and it will be an opportune time for us to attack. I have found a breach in the city's defenses if the siege is prolonged by unexpected obstacles. The only formidable enemy we should fear now is the lack of time therefore I feel it is important to convey this message to you beforehand. _

_Yesterday I saw a glimpse of your father and I was reminded that the glorious day when the man who disrespected you unfairly falls is nigh. I know how irrelevant my satisfaction is and I will not speak of it further, but only thus I can express my indignation and my heartache. _

_I hope all is well. _

Wingull looked at the letter for the last time, signed it, folded it neatly and sealed it. A barely noticeable smile touched his lips and under his breath he whispered words he could not write.

_I long to see you, Gaius…_

***o***

"You have done everything right, Wingull, I am very pleased."

He appeared before Gaius in dusty clothes immediately after he left the mount in the stables. He was parched with thirst, but nothing surpassed his desire to see the king and deliver him the latest news.

The young heir was spending time with Sun Yu, a middle-aged general with massive features and a bald spot in his luxurious mane of black hair. They were arguing about the fate of conquered cultures and Gaius wasn't concerned with their preservation, aiming to integrate them into one whereas the old general disagreed, insisting that important legacy might be lost. The king, however, didn't perceive anything capable of threatening their strength and unity as valuable. Wingull didn't interfere, but scarcely had he entered the room when both of them ceased talking and directed their attention to him.

"…Thank you, Your Highness," he concluded his brief report which confirmed the suppositions he had a week ago and silently awaited next orders.

Yet, instead, Gaius invited him to take a seat and make himself comfortable.

"Wingull, I want to know what you think about the message I received from my father."

"But he is too young to be your advisor," Sun Yu tried to object.

"He is only four years younger than me. By accusing him of inexperience you insinuate to me that in your eyes I, too, am a mere child."

And so was settled that disagreement. Wingull smirked, the general frowned, but did not dare to refute an argument and Gaius, as if nothing were wrong, sipped juice from the goblet.

"What does lord Hajime want?"

"While you were away, he applied a lot of effort to reconcile with me, but I had not given him the final answer yet. My decision depends on your response, Wingull. Is there a way to besiege El Fe without spilling a droplet of blood? I would prefer not to begin my reign with a bloodbath although father likes to accuse me of the contrary."

"Unfortunately, I could not find it. The city is surrounded by a pentagon of well-guarded walls and another wall protects the castle without. There is a weakness in their defense and with the help from the inside in the right moment we can capture El Fe with relatively insignificant losses, but bloodlessly… no, Your Highness, I do not know of such a way."

"Will you agree, general?"

"I suppose," mumbled Sun Yu.

"You seem to be more obliging now than in the question of cultural assimilation, but… no matter. I suggest we aid my father in the upcoming campaign."

He would feel less astounded if Gaius stripped to the waist and performed an elaborate dance on the table in front of them. After the king castigated his father's politics for years, after Wingull witnessed how lord Hajime treated him, after they escaped imprisonment together, he could not believe that, assuming a detached air, Gaius would so easily retract his words and yield. What happed to his desire to protect the weak?

"I clearly fail to see the benefit," declared Sun Yu and mentally Wingull acknowledged the rightness of his words. "If you are as afraid to spill blood as your father is, then what am I to gain in this foolish gamble? Or the people of A'Jule…"

Gaius struck his hand on the table, but immediately regained control of himself. Familiar flames blazed up in violet eyes and he directed that wrathful glare on Wingull who, however, met it with dignity.

"What will you say?"

And then the cruel truth dawned upon him and he almost laughed in a rather inappropriate manner. "I agree with lord Gaius and I believe we must act in the following way…"

…Another week passed unnoticeably, since they were consumed by the same routine every day. They woke up early, observed the training of troops, sparred, played xiangqi, conversed and ate, but every such act was a performance to conceal their growing worry and impatience. They were awaiting news from everywhere, but only weather seemed to change: nights became longer, days colder and damp fog crept over the valley in the mornings, climbing into the windows and waking them up with a chilly touch.

When he had time, Wingull thought of future, but such thoughts disturbed him; he was about to free Yuko and witness Gaius's coronation, but cowardly doubts wormed themselves into his mind. Those were pitiful thoughts and his pride easily brushed them aside for a day or two, but they returned, waylaid him in solitude, in predawn hours when he lay with his eyes opened and remembered his childhood, in moments of melancholy and aloofness. He wasn't lucky. If he dies, will Gaius mourn him? No, he didn't need a grandiose funeral – a thousand people wailing with ostentatious grief while in truth half of them rejoiced over his passing and the other half came to exchange rumors – to indulge his inexistent vanity, but he wished to be quietly remembered by those he loved. Then he clothed himself, cast an annoyed glance at his pale, gentle features, and asked Gaius to send him on a reconnaissance mission. He would fight recklessly or slay his enemies with apathy, and those importunate thoughts temporarily receded into oblivion.

Then one morning the message arrived, warning them that Mariko's father was approaching El Fe with a significant force of infantry and siege towers. That night he was summoned to Gaius's bedchambers.

Jao guarded the door and barred his way when he tried to enter.

"Lord Gaius ordered me not to let anyone in," cordially said the former ruffian, but seeing that he pulled a long face, added, "but you are an exception. He is waiting for you."

"It wasn't an apt joke, Jao," Wingull smirked wryly, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob. His heart hasn't yet learnt to beat calmly when he anticipated to see Gaius; he only learnt to guess the king's mood and reasoned that on the verge of a fight he needed a confident, proud adviser and a skilled lover. Although Wingull was hardly skilled, confidence and pride he had in abundance.

In semi-darkness which reigned in the room he barely discerned the contours of Gaius's figure. The king sat on a low cushion, cross-legged, and his sword lay in front of him, stripped of sheath.

"You did not want to be by yourself tonight?" Asked Wingull, approaching him on rigid legs and wondering what Gaius expected of him.

"I may not be the most attentive lover, but we march towards El Fe tomorrow and I thought it would be a pleasant reminder that in this fight we are not alone." He smoothed out his robe on his knees and froze again. "What do you feel, Wingull?"

"I don't know what it is… not fright, I am certain, but a gnawing desire to end everything as quickly as possible."

"I do not feel anything."

"Then I envy your calmness."

"I will do what must be done, but it is only the first step out of many and a steep climb awaits me still. Do you think the war will be over soon? No, I will conquer A'Jule and then turn my gaze on Rashugal and I will not stop until they no longer pose a threat to us… I do not want to limit myself or hide behind countless excuses. Truth is, I do not want to stop. But I solemnly promise you, Wingull, that I will be a good king and I will see to it that you never regret your choice to lend me your strength."

Wingull knelt behind him, loosened the belt of his robe and pressed his forehead to his back. The smell of fragrant oils washed over him. And so they froze, together, above the chasm of time.

"I am not certain about the future, but here and now I regret nothing…" He said faintly. "Nay, perhaps, I do regret that your father will not die by my hand. I overheard once, involuntarily, how he…"

"Do not waste time, hating him, Wingull. He is not important."

"What about… your mother?" He asked boldly.

"She is weak and tomorrow I will liberate her as well. She will live a life I relinquished on my own volition, a joyful, peaceful life. She will never be in want of anything. That girl you call your sister, Yuko… I will take care of her, too. When we leave El Fe, I do not want you to be distracted from our goal by extraneous thoughts."

He smiled into the silky cloth of his lover's robe (_…what of our future? Haze of uncertainty and sweet poison of false hopes_). "Thank you… Gaius. A weight has been removed from my shoulders now that I know she will be safe even if I am wounded or dead."

"Humph, you didn't title me."

"I thought tonight I didn't have to."

Wingull rose and, slowly removing his clothes, headed towards the bed. There he posed as he would for an artist, knowing that Gaius was intently watching his every move.

"It amuses me to think that the last argument of kings is war, but I find yours no less convincing."

He licked his forefinger, arching his back in feigned ecstasy and counting light steps with a satisfied smirk on his lips. One, two, three, closer, more impatient…

"I do not enjoy arguing with you."

***o***

The war drums resounded under the cloudless skies, the usual imperious rhythm rushed in desperation, as though soldiers beating the drum had but moments left to live and decided to sacrifice themselves to save others, signaling a retreat. Two lines, white and crimson, intermingled, losing the prefect order in which they entered the battle, but neither relinquished even an insignificant hill until suddenly more figures in white ran out of the nearest coppice, brandishing their weapons, and hailed down arrows upon the crimson footsoldiers. Belatedly, they turned towards the new opponent, bravely managed to fend off those who ambushed them, selflessly giving up their lives for one man who gathered them to avenge his daughter, but at the same time the center collapsed under the onslaught led by Gaius himself and the outcome was determined.

Banners fell and zhangu desperately called the remaining soldiers to abandon their positions.

Gaius was in the heart of battle and Wingull with him, striking down enemies right and left, when the crimson figures wavered and ran. He released his full power and protected his lord's back from arrows and chance blows which were not rare in the ensuing chaos. A wide swath strewn with bodies grew around them, rose and fell the long sword wielded by a skilled hand, and footsoldiers in crimson armor ran every which way to avoid its deadly swings.

Then a messenger made his way through confusion. "Lord Gaius, they are retreating."

The king froze, blood dripping from his sword, glanced over the battlefield where his army slowly crushed all centers of resistance and turned his head towards the walls. In the new armor which fit him tightly like dragon scales he appeared even more authoritative.

"Set the siege towers on fire with arrows," violet eyes narrowed – slits filled with cold flame. "Wingull, you know what to do."

Wingull shook his white hair, laughed in anticipation of slaughter – when he shifted, he became slightly unhinged and deranged, committing acts of murder with pleasure which some found sickening – and waved his hand in the general direction of tall gray silhouettes, looming in the distance. A soldier blindly stumbled out of the haze, lost in the chaos of retreat, and Wingull's sword swiftly fell across his back. A groan was expelled from his lips, he spit blood and collapsed at Gaius's feet, a broken figure in red.

The sound of zhangu throbbed in his temples and surroundings seemed to be covered in thin red mist.

By the time they reached the siege towers, two of them had been blazing from the bottom to the top, like colossal torches and in the lurid reflections of fires people who dashed in the smoke appeared as dark ghosts. They screamed, begged for mercy, but received none, falling, falling, falling… It was hard to discern anything in the mayhem. Wingull jumped into the skirmish, whirled, parried, lunged forward like lightning. He breathed in ash with crisp air and thought of nothing but the movement of his feet and the swish of his blade.

Footsoldiers protected the siege towers with obstinate desperation. Whoever gave the order to hold the position at all costs recognized that the towers were their last hope to capture El Fe. Then out of the corner of his eyes Wingull saw Jao who slowly approached, crushing soldiers with his enormous hammer, and he knew that the easiest ordeal of the day was over.

"I took care of them, young master," the former ruffian said quite cheerfully.

"Then there is another favor you'll do for me," Gaius pointed towards the figures in crimson who were retreating in disorder. "The enemies were put to flight, but their will to resist shall be broken only when their leader dies. In the meantime, Wingull and I will accept my father's cordial invitation."

_Wingless butterflies spend their last moments pitifully crawling in dust…_

…El Fe opened its gates reluctantly. The streets were desolated, but here and there behind the barricaded door or closed sturdy shutters flickered a vague silhouette of a curious observer. Lord Hajime received them in the throne room with his advisor Zhao and a small retinue of guards. Upon seeing them, he rose to greet his son with open arms, showing his willingness to forgive, but Gaius confined himself to a quick bow which resembled a nod, lacking in respect and veneration. Wingull clenched the handle of his sword until his fingers grew numb, remembering the incident in the garden, but nobody noticed how blood had risen to his cheeks and his eyes flashed fire. He hoped he would never have to face Gaius's father after they absconded from the palace.

"I am glad to hear of your victory, my son. You were able to put aside our differences in the name of common good and I magnanimously forgive your past transgressions. What a glorious day indeed!" His cheerfulness seemed a bit contrived, but unmarred with suspicion which Wingull hoped he would notice. He genuinely believed he could reconcile with his son. It was a stunning discovery for Wingull over which he would ponder times and times again. Himself an orphan, he always longed for the life he lost, but he would rather retain an ideal image of his parents than be one day confronted with reality. Parents could love their children, or believe they loved, and yet tragically misunderstand them, seeing in them their own reflection, although to a stranger the lack of resemblance was striking. "I always knew your rationality would triumph over petty grudges."

Gaius's cold eyes were empty and, barring a faint smile, nothing suggested he wanted this alliance.

"Then grant forgiveness to my faithful servant, Wingull, who disobeyed you solely out of desire to help me."

"Ah, Wingull… Of course, he is welcome to stay with you. I remember him since he was a boy, but I see he grew up and gained in strength."

"Thank you, father. I would rest, but exigent matters which concern the fate of our kingdom demand our attention. I will bring you the head of that traitor as soon as I can…"

"No, don't bother, Gaius, you have already done enough."

"If it is within my power to protect our kingdom, why do you stop me, father? Why have you always stopped me?" He asked sternly, and Wingull's heart sank in anticipation of the inevitable confrontation. "Why didn't you understand the futility of your efforts?"

"Gaius," lord Hajime conciliatory raised his arm, "we agreed to cease our foolish argument. You know I love you as my only heir."

"Ah, we did, didn't we?"

There were footsteps outside the door, faint as yet, but in Wingull's ears they rang like war drums, sapping his patience and he had to clench his fists not to shift into his battle form too early.

"Lord Hajime," the man who barged into the throne room was panting and his clothes were spattered with blood, "we are under attack! Comrades raise swords against comrades, there is confusion everywhere. What shall we do?"

Gaius's father leapt to his feet. "What is happening? Who is the treacherous enemy? Gaius! Protect the throne room, Zhao…"

He did not finish speaking, for at that very moment Wingull slipped behind the unsuspecting messenger, unsheathed his sword and, holding his head steady, gently slit his throat. He gulped, uttering a gurgling sound as he was choking on his blood, and before his body hit the ground, Wingull thrust his blade into the unprotected chest of the nearest guard, freed it and plunged it again, into the enemy's throat.

Two guards pounced at him from both sides. Wingull parried a lunge, twirled to upend his opponent and fell on one knee, dodging a swing. The guard's sword slid along his cheek, leaving a long, thin cut on his pale skin. Rising, Wingull held his blade upright and its sharp tip went through the soft flesh of the enemy's chin. The last guard tried to knock him off his feet, but he crushed his Adam's apple with his knuckles. The floor had become slippery with blood, moans and entreaties filled the room, and amidst the chaos calmly stood Gaius with his arms across.

"What treason is this?" Lord Hajime uncouthly slumped onto the throne, paling. "Gaius, your servant had gone mad, do something. Why are you standing there? Why do you deny me the answer?"

"It is not Wingull you should be worried about, Your Majesty," Zhao bravely shielded the throne and the pitiful figure on it. "Your son villainously betrayed you."

"Gaius? No, it cannot be. Tell him, my son, that he is wrong. Tell him you did not plot my undoing and I swear I will forget everything! Just tell him… Please…" His voice broke off and he stared at the young heir in mute horror.

Somebody hammered on the door, shouting, "Are you all right, Your-?" but was cut short and uneasy silence fell.

Gaius slowly unsheathed his sword, "Get out of my way, Zhao, my quarrel is not with you."

"I taught you since you were four and treated you as my own son. Will you strike me down? Step aside if you do not have the resolve because I will not abandon my king."

"Gaius, come to see reason!" Pleaded lord Hajime or, rather, simply Hajime, a man bereft of his title and ostentatious confidence.

Gaius's hesitation lasted no longer than a few heartbeats. A spurt of flames hit Zhao in the chest, his lifeless body was hurled into the wall and the young king froze in front of the throne, pointing his sword at his father.

Hajime rushed towards him in a frenzy of despair, but was struck down instantly and fell on his knees, cradling a stump of his arm. His shoulders shook, but grave resignation showed on his face as he finally accepted betrayal and defeat.

"I hope you will be a better king than I was."

Gaius's sword fell in a glistening arch, the movement so swift that Wingull barely discerned it, and at first it seemed to him that the young heir spared his father; he was still kneeling when his distorted face turned unnaturally pale and streamlets of blood ran along his neck. His body swayed and only then did his head slid off his shoulders and rolled on the floor.

"I will," replied Gaius.

Wingull flung the doors wide open and soldiers who crowded the hallways froze in confusion, exchanging perplexed looks, for the very reason which drove them to fight lifelessly sprawled on the floor in an awkward pause.

"The king is dead!" Loudly announced Wingull and the same words echoed through the corridors. Orphan soldiers threw their weapons aside, surrendering, and most, he knew, would be spared.

"There is no need for you to fight," added Gaius. "Lay down your arms and you will not be harmed. So say I, your new king."

And they obediently knelt around him, tamed like a raging element. The most zealous of them will continue resisting, but to many it mattered little whose orders they were obeying and if the king was dead, they swore loyalty to his son without a moment's hesitation.

"My father gambled with the prosperity of our kingdom and he paid a steep price. But fear not! The threat of invasion no longer looms over El Fe. The enemy's forces were scattered and you can return to your duties, knowing that your families will be safe. After I restore order, we will celebrate."

If some thought of rising against him, a small detachment of Sun Yu's forces which surrounded them discouraged even the most foolhardy. Their little coup d'état went too smoothly, thought Wingull and worry filled his heart. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

It never was.

"Wingull, find my mother and escort her here," Gaius ordered him.

He had almost forgotten about her. How would she respond to her son's treason and her husband's death? Wingull never found out. The guards by the door were slaughtered and, entering, he already expected the gruesome sight. Nevertheless, he had to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he found strength to scrutinize the body. There was so much blood on the sheets, crimson droplets smeared the citron flowers, and as he skirted the bed, amidst the silk and laces emerged a white face and a wave of raven-black hair. Gaius's hair. Wingull's heart leapt to his throat. Who would murder a helpless woman? Who had a reason and audacity to betray the new king, except for an old insidious enemy who could not be placated or bribed…

For a moment the world grew dim. Having forgotten about the unfortunate death of Gaius's mother, about the king and his duties, Wingull ran through the dark hallways as fast as he could, knowing that he was too late and refusing to believe it. His heart ached unbearably.

'_Four Great Spirits, take everything from me, but let me be wrong_,' he repeated like a mantra. '_Yuko, please, wait for me! Be alive when I come! Be alive!_'

And then he ran even faster although the air burnt in his lungs and from sharp wind tears welled in his eyes, clouding his sight. It dawned upon him not so long ago that he hadn't seen Leito who if he witnessed his father's death, had all the reasons to avenge Gaius by killing his mother and him in the only way Zhao's son, having lost everything, still could. The thought drove Wingull mad.

"Yuko!" He called for her in the streets. "Yuko!"

She could not hear him. She was dead and her body slowly swayed from side to side, hanging from a rope which she tied to the chandelier. Straining his last strength, he flew up the stairs and fell by the door, stricken by horror and grief. Through the chink he saw her like that, frail and helpless. Harmless. Swaying from side to side, arms and legs awkwardly dangling in the air.

"Yuko!"

His thoughts were in a jumble. On trembling legs, making an effort to stand upright, Wingull walked inside, absent-mindedly picked up the overturned chair and sat on it, jaded and tired, having no will to move. He often sat in that chair, telling her about his lessons with Zhao – who was also dead – but now the memories seemed hazed over, laughter distant and happiness inexistent.

Death was everywhere. The air was permeated with its nauseating stench.

"Why didn't you wait for me, Yuko?" He whispered.

Then his gaze fell onto a piece of paper. He unfolded it, vacantly stared at it. Read it thrice.

'_…They are coming to take my life, I hear their footsteps on the creaking stairs. I cannot bear the thought of humiliation. I wish you were here. Forgive me, Wingull…_'

He could not understand.

Suddenly there was a movement in the corner of his eye and he was jolted out of the surreal numbness.

"Leito!" Wingull screamed, beside himself with grief and anger. "I will kill you!" Silence. "Where are you, Leito?!"

"When I came, she was already dead. Even my sweet vengeance was stolen from me, I thought, but now… what a gift of fate," laughing, Leito stepped out of the closet and ripped the curtains aside. Sunlight flooded the room. "You are always late…" Wingull swung his sword blindly, but Leito easily dodged it. "What do you think I felt when I beheaded the only girl I loved? I am dead, too, and all I hear is the chime of bells… Will you follow me there, where the light never shines?"

Zhao's son laughed, tears streaming down his face, and even as Wingull plunged his sword into his chest, his shoulders continued to shake in a fit of twisted gaiety. "All I wanted was to see your face… Tell me, when he learnt of his mother's death, did he have the same face?"

"Do not dare speak of lord Gaius!" Wingull turned his blade in the wound, but when Leito collapsed on the floor, he was still alive.

With strange malice, he stripped both beds of sheets and piled them in the middle of the room. Then he poured oil on top, lit the candle and dropped it onto the heap.

"Tell him she offered herself to me if I let her live. All women are whores!"

Flames spread across the room quickly and Wingull tightly shut the door so that everything he hated burnt – Leito, memories of Gaius and Mariko, Yuko's prison, her suffering in the hands of many men...

_You are a wingless butterfly, Yuko… and I am setting you free… _

…A few hours later, when he was no longer afraid to lose his equanimity, Wingull found Gaius. The young king stood on the balcony which overlooked the gray and green linen of El Fe, dotted with small specks of fires and smoke, and thoughtlessly stared into the distance. He told his lover everything; words gushed out of his mouth on their own.

"This is the beginning of my reign," Gaius said afterwards, "but I never meant it to begin like that. They chant, 'Long live the king!' but I think of my dead mother, whom I failed to protect, and I keep wondering if I could change anything. If I did not involve myself with Mariko, perhaps, both of them would still be alive…"

Wingull's heart ached from the sadness in the king's voice; he didn't want to see Gaius sad, but his wishes were laughably insignificant.

Later he will be called one of the Black Wings of the revolution, later fate will hold him responsible for the oaths he swore, but then Wingull understood that although he retained his audacity, he no longer felt young. And some dreams could never come true.

**The end.**


End file.
